My thoughts have been scattered, reflecting on the events in this part of our world of recent.
The death of a beloved is an amputation. C.S. Lewis
Among those who have followed, supported, or know the Bosma family, there is a heaviness. For anyone acquainted with grief of any kind, there is a profound sadness that transcends our perspective, challenging our fight to find joy and keep living.
"How long to sing this song? How long? How long?" U2, "Forty" based on Psalm 40
Today, I had to take Rachel to the doctor. We are starting a round of antibiotics to help manage what appears to be another infection. As I drove downtown, I couldn't help notice a little boy with his grandmother skip into Dairy Queen with obvious delight on his face. Yet, further down the road, I witnessed two girls on foot exchange "f-ck yous" with a motorist as they each claimed the same space of road.
I wanted to send the three angry ones to Dairy Queen with the little boy and his grandma and remind them of how short life can be...that we ought not waste it being stupid. Instead, we should eat more ice cream together. Maybe that comes from feelings of regret, missing those shared desserts with people who are no longer here on earth.
Grief shapes you. It's messy. It's complicated. It's not wanted. It takes root in your heart and forever changes you.
Makes me think of the book Tear Soup. It's about a woman who makes tear soup -who must make tear soup.
"Because of her great loss Grandy knew this time her recipe for tear soup would call for a big pot. With a big pot she would have plenty of room for all the memories, all the misgivings, all the feelings and all the tears she needed to stew in the pot over time."
Finding a way to live with grief is as unique as our own grief circumstances. It may take a lifetime.
When life comes undone, we look for answers. We might not find answers. We might find more questions. We might wrestle with deep issues that we would prefer to ignore - but can't.
It's okay to wrestle with darkness.
There is no pit so deep, that God's love is not deeper still. Corrie Ten Boom
If we know and believe that our Story is not finished, that sorrow of any kind is not the last word, then we learn to breathe, live, and dance again. The grief is always there, but it is threaded into the fabric of our life.
The music of God's promises begins to be heard - it's an act of faith. Faith believes there is a music to the spheres that the heart can hear, if it is stilled. Hope is the decision to dance again to that music. Hope is a decision, a decision of the heart to live, to dance to God's promises of life in the face of grievous sorrow....We may dance haltingly, with a limp, unsure of our step, but we've begun to live again and joy will return. Rev. Bernard DeJonge, my dad
Just as the sun rises after the night, there will be joy in the mourning. It may take longer than we think or choose, but there will be joy again. Lamentations 3:19-23
Peace to your homes. May we all work to promote peace in our corners.
A Grace Disguised - J. Sittser
Lament for a Son - N. Wolterstorff
A Grief Observed - C.S. Lewis